


last minutes and lost evenings

by NahaFlowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, But mostly fluff, M/M, mostly lots of tender gentle feelings, they are Softe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: James reminisces about the last night he spent with Thomas Hamilton





	last minutes and lost evenings

_life is about love, last minutes and lost evenings_  
_about fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings_  
_and the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering_  
_and they help us with remembering, that the only thing that's left to do is live_  
Frank Turner, 'I Knew Prufrock Before He Was Famous'

 

Soft and slow was the last night he spent with Thomas.

James had wondered, on the occasions he dared think of it, or simply could not help but dwell upon his memories, if he would have changed anything, had he known what was coming. The only thing he would change, he decided, was that it was the last night, or at the very least, that they had had the chance to properly say goodbye.

 

“James,” said Thomas, when he entered the room. His name was a benediction on Thomas’s lips.

James smiled, all softness, a quality he did not think to have possessed, certainly not in any great measure, until Thomas had proved him wrong. Thomas had proved him wrong in a lot of things, many times over. 

James hoped he would never stop doing so.

“Hello,” he said, coming close to where Thomas was sitting on the window seat and placing a hand on his shoulder. Thomas leaned forward to kiss him, and he met him beat for beat, hands on each other’s faces, stroking gently, lips moving softly together and apart, like the lapping of a gentle tide.

James remembered the first time Thomas had kissed him, how he had trembled. How uncertain he had been, even with Thomas kissing him, even with what he had dreamed of and fantasized about for so long coming to fruition. He had been so scared that it was some joke, some trick being played on him by God, or by his own damned brain (but not Thomas, never Thomas). But perhaps it was mere gratitude, Thomas having seen his feelings written plain on his face and trying to reward him in kind. It was only when he felt Thomas’s thumb stroke his cheek, with a tenderness that surely could not be faked, that James raised his hands to rest on Thomas’s back, holding him gently, breathing him in, barely able to believe this was happening.

What a contrast to now – he bit Thomas’s lip, very gently, then sucked it into his mouth, causing Thomas to moan, taking advantage of Thomas’s open mouth to dip his tongue in and suck on Thomas’s, making Thomas groan and pull James onto his lap. 

Thomas pulled away briefly, grinning. “You are the very devil,” he said.

James smirked. “I even have the fiery hair to prove it,” he said, kissing the corner of Thomas’s mouth, shifting himself so he was more comfortably straddling Thomas’s lap.

“Mm,” said Thomas, carding his fingers through his hair, freeing it from the ribbon that held it back. He kissed him on the nose. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

It was said so casually, but with such reverence that James found himself blushing. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

“Really,” said Thomas, taking his face in both hands, holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world, “you are so, so beautiful.” And he leaned forward to kiss him, soft and long and slow and yearning, and James felt tears spring up in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said when their lips finally broke away from each other, their foreheads instead resting together, unable to bear being apart, even for a minute.

Thomas pressed his eyes closed and breathed him in, opening them only very slowly. “I love you too,” he whispered.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe it,” said James, reaching for the words to explain. Thomas waited patiently – ever patient, that man, waiting faithfully for as long as James took to find his words, his voice, his courage – himself. “I’ve been so lucky. I never thought – I never imagined that the world would gift me with someone like you. I could never have imagined that someone like you even existed, until I found you.”

Thomas was smiling, but tears were brimming in his eyes, threatening to spill – the way they had, James thought, when he had stood up and defended him in front of his father, told him to leave his own house, told Thomas that he was a good man. If he could just make Thomas look at him like that, every day for the rest of their lives, he would die a happy man.

“We’ve both been so lucky, my love. I am so, so blessed to have you.” He punctuated his sentences with kisses – on James’s cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his lips. 

And surely, James thought, God had indeed blessed the love between them, and he recalled the inscription Thomas had addressed to him in _Meditations_ , and he knew no shame as he began to rock his hips on Thomas’s lap, for what could be more holy than this?

Soon the canting of their hips and the friction provided through their clothes was not enough. 

“As much as I’d like to have you in full view of the window,” Thomas whispered ardently in his ear, “perhaps we would be more comfortable on the bed?”

James gasped hotly at the idea, of being pushed up against the window by Thomas, of being seen, by the gardener or a servant or a random passerby. But perhaps not. He nodded reluctantly, and let Thomas guide him to the bed, lay him down.

“You like that, don’t you?” Thomas whispered to him, sucking and nipping at his earlobe and drawing from James a high-pitched keening. “The thought of us on show, of everyone looking at us as I bring you over the edge, as we peak the summit.” Thomas was kissing his way down James’s body, undoing shirt buttons and belt buckles as he went, James sighing and panting beneath him. “Ah well,” he said, almost to himself. “Perhaps one day.”

James groaned and, with great effort, raised himself with one hand behind him to look Thomas in the eye. He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’d want that? Us both on show, like this-” He inhaled sharply as Thomas sucked a nipple into his mouth. Once Thomas had let go and was looking at him expectantly, James managed to recover himself (marginally) and carry on. “I don’t think Whitehall would be very impressed.”

Thomas laughed, a wonderful thing born of pure happiness and delight. “No, I don’t suppose they would.” He leant down to suck on James’s neck. “But I would like to show them how utterly glorious you are, coming undone underneath me.”

James moaned and pulled Thomas onto his lap, rubbing their hardness together.

Thomas pulled away with great difficulty. “Patience, my love,” he said sweetly, rubbing James’s beard with his thumb. He kissed him on the lips, then trailed his kisses downwards until he was mouthing wetly at the bulge in James’s breeches. 

It was some kind of sweet torture, and James edged his breeches down with his own hands, releasing his cock, which Thomas began to lick at with enthusiasm. Soon he had taken him in his mouth and was sucking him in earnest, tongue occasionally venturing down to tease at his balls, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. With a great effort, James pulled Thomas off him by the hair, leading Thomas to let out a most indecent noise before turning a pair of innocent-looking blue eyes up to James.

“As much as I’m enjoying the attention,” James fair panted, “carry on like that and you won’t be able to fuck me.”

That brought out a wicked glint in Thomas’s eye. “Oh? Do I affect you so, Lieutenant?” he said, licking stripes up the inside of James’s thighs.

“Yes,” James replied, through gritted teeth.

Thomas grinned from between his thighs, looking positively debauched. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” And he reached for the oil he kept in his bedside drawer.

James didn’t remember much after that; just flashes of images and heat and pleasure. He did the best he could to help Thomas, but sometimes Thomas liked to take charge and take him apart, and James was just fine with that.

 

When it was over, James lay in Thomas’s arms for a good few minutes, just recovering and soaking him in. Then he leaned up to kiss Thomas’s lips, sweetly.

“You are incredible,” he whispered. “You know that?”

“So you tell me frequently,” Thomas said, teasingly, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that encouraged James to press on.

“Not often enough. You truly are incredible.” He smiled, and leaned up to kiss him again. “And brilliant.” Another kiss. “And amazing, and beautiful and talented,” Thomas wiggled his eyebrows at that one. “And just bloody spectacular.” He punctuated each adjective with kisses until Thomas was giggling under all his attention.

Then Thomas flipped James onto his back, so he was on top of him, and proceeded to cover James’s face with kisses until he begged for mercy.

Eventually, they broke apart and just lay there, side by side, holding hands.

“Do you think it will always be like this?” asked James.

“Hmm?”

“Between us. It’s just…I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I keep waiting for it to all go wrong.”

Thomas immediately turned on his side so he was facing James and took his bearded-face in his hands. He kissed him gently, slowly, reassuringly. “It won’t, my love. None of us can say for sure what the future will hold but…” He sighed and stroked James’s beard. “I believe in us. Whatever happens tomorrow, or in the next weeks or months, we will make it through.” Thomas’s voice was quietly confident and it soothed James into closing his eyes. “And I promise, even if we are separated, we will always find our way back to each other.” He kissed James on the forehead and then let him bury into his chest. They slept in each other’s arms and dreamed of a thousand better tomorrows.

 

James had refused to think of that memory for many years. It was a tender thing, one that could reduce him to tears if even the edge of it entered his consciousness; not exactly something you wanted as a dread pirate captain. They had thought they had so much time left, that there was nothing in the world that could tear them apart. How young and foolish they had been.

But now he is back in Thomas’s arms, on the other side of the world and ten years from where they started, and James wonders if Thomas wasn’t right. They have found their way back to each other, after all these years, even believing each other to be dead.

As if reading James’s mind, the second thing Thomas whispers to him that night, after they have reunited in a way so reminiscent of their previous couplings even despite the passing of the years, is an acknowledgment of that night, so tender in its first utterance, but losing none of the sentiment even now, after the pain of almost a decade apart.

Thomas kisses his hair and says, with the hard-won self-satisfaction of a man who has been through hell and come out the other side, “I told you they would never part us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise!happy ending! I was gonna make this just angsty James reminiscing about his last night with Thomas but...they've had enough angst and sadness. They deserve their happy ending, in fic as well as on the show. Also I am weak and just want them to be happy.  
> If you _do_ want fluff-that-is-actually-angst fic about this same scenario, I really recommend you go and read [Homecoming by Palebluedot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053365)!  
>  I haven't written smut in a while, I hope it was ok!  
> Comments are love!


End file.
